I’ve accepted that I will never be a muse.
I grew up surrounded by advertisements and by all those ballerinas and models in beautiful dresses with red lipstick.
The girls in kindergarten used to say they wanted to become beautiful singers and models.
It seems that, even back then, I already understood that none of that was for me — that I would be a creator.
In general, I think there are three kinds of people.
The first category is artists, creators.
The second — ordinary people who live their own lives.
It seems to me that they are the happiest and most peaceful people on Earth, the ones who simply live, untouched by the need to “make the world better.”
And the third category are muses.
I have a few acquaintances, friends — people who possess their energy so fully, who are so beautiful simply in being who they are — that on one hand, I feel so glad for them, and on the other, I feel stuck, because they are so beautiful, and because they are muses.
I’ve accepted that I will never be a muse — I will always be a creator.
I’m searching for my muses.
If you’re a muse, call me.
